Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Note: This post from August 2006, one of my favorites, is from my earlier blog, Spring of the White Robin.Death be not proud, though some have called theeMighty and dreadful, for thou art not so… John Donne

Having returned from a walk in the cemetery, my thoughts
turn to death. Well, I am not thinking about death so much, but what people
think about death. As a child, I was terrified about the thought of my own
demise. I obsessed about how, when, and why this might occur. Fast forward 50
years, to today, I find that my attitude towards death is not one of fear. I
have a good life, a wonderful family,
and steadfast friends.

Walking in the cemetery has been a family tradition for a
number of years. We moved into our house when our first son was 13 months old.
The house is on a busy street not a block away from a large cemetery. Our
custom strolling in the cemetery began very early in his life. The graveyard
provided a place to walk with few cars as well peaceful surroundings. This
particular site has majestic trees, lovely flowers, and at the time ducks. The
cemetery provided a perfect spot to amble with our baby. I did not give it much
thought that is where dead people resided. We referred to the walks as “going
to see the ducks.” As the years passed, we continued the walks with our second
son and many of the neighborhood children. From time to time, we even had
picnics on the lawn. As the children grew, there were fewer walks through the
local graveyard. But there were occasional bike rides, and the traffic-free
roads provided a safe place for our driving novices.

Today, our sons are married and live in another city.
However, my husband and I still enjoy a leisurely walk in the cemetery. The
ducks are gone, but today we saw a great blue heron, and all sorts of wildlife,
turtles, fish, dragonflies, and more. Now, some may find this practice creepy,
but I enjoy a good walk in the park (errrr…cemetery.) How about you?

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Happy August 1, I love new beginnings, fresh starts, turning over a new leaf, or any other well-worn cliche about this being the first day of the rest of your life. Even if the the start of a a new month, a new year, or a new day is an artificial opportunity for change, I relish turning the page on the calendar. I welcome the newness yet to come.

On this blog in July, I faithfully posted a Photo-a-Day trying to meet the schedule with the appropriate picture. In most cases, I enjoyed looking for the right photo to match the word or theme. In August, my approach to this blog will be somewhat different. Although I may post an occasional or even frequent photograph for the August Photo-a-Day, my intent is to concentrate on composing posts about a variety of topics.

I hope that this day is wonderful for all of us as this is the first day of August...Rabbit, rabbit.

Our Team Blog

About Me

All right, fine, so how was Spring of the White Robin born? Well, among other things, I imagine myself as a great writer. Okay, so my writing is not so great, but I have a great title. Strangely enough, there is such a bird as a white robin. Maybe there is not an all white robin, but there are robins with white feathers where other robins have red feathers, a robin white breast so to speak. So in my fantasy world where I AM the great writer, I write a tale for preteens about a young girl having grand adventures and creating splendid inventions during the spring, in which our heroine simultaneously discovers a pair of white robins. Of course, my novelette is adored by young girls everywhere; and thus, I am an instant success.